


There was only one bed

by deathbyOTPin123



Series: Oswald and Ed share a bed [4]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 18:40:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathbyOTPin123/pseuds/deathbyOTPin123
Summary: In a war torn Gotham, Oswald and Edward finally find peace.Set post 4x22





	There was only one bed

The walls shook from the explosion that rang outside. Gotham was a war zone for over 20 days. Everyone, who could, saved themself by either leaving the town across a bridge or by one of the boats. The city got divided among the strongest before the last boat left, carrying the army and the last evacuees. 

Jeremiah’s strategically placed bombs cut off the entire city from the rest of the world, from the food supplies and from the electricity. The last hit Oswald the hardest. It all happened too fast; too soon. Strange didn't have time to bring Nygma and Thompkins back to life. 

Oswald ordered his men to find as many generators as they could. Bargained and fought for others. But not everyone was willing to trade away everything. They knew they would need supplies of their own if they were to hold their territory. In the end, when he brought it all to Strange, he was informed there was only enough power for one to be brought back. 

Edward Nygma or Lee Thompkins.

And Oswald needed them both. Having not one, but two doctors at his disposal made him a powerful man in a moment like this. Where Strange had to be bribed and was prone to experiment, Lee could be convinced and was still aiming to help. The former leader of the Narrows was still good, deep down in her heart. Her nature would compel her to do good. The same way he once, years ago, could count on Jim. What remained of her followers would now be loyal more than ever. And Oswald’s estimate was that many from Narrows didn’t make it out of Gotham in time. He needed Lee Thompkins. If nothing else, as a bargaining chip for Nygma and Gordon.

But he also needed Edward Nygma. He needed him for his brilliant mind. He needed him because after everything was said and done, pathetic as it may be, he still had feelings for the man. Maybe he given up on acting on them, but that didn’t mean he was willing to let him die just yet. Well, remain dead. 

Before his decision, Lady Luck smiled upon him and he found out Jim Gordon was powering the entire police station and the surrounding buildings with one of Jeremiah’s generators. He hated it, but he needed to make a deal with Jim. 

He ordered Strange to bring back Nygma, as he set upon arranging a quick meeting with his old acquaintance. 

They made a pact, in the end. Oswald gave Gordon a chunk of his territory, weapons, men to follow his orders, both Strange and Lee. In return he got immunity, Edward, free access to both doctors and a promise he would be plugged to the generator if he helped them establish peace and order. 

This is how he ended up here. In the rundown Town Hall, lit candles placed in the  corners, cramped on a sofa with Ed’s socked feet beside his head. It was the only safe place at the moment, with the only furniture at his disposal that resembled a bed. City maps were strewn over the floor; chess pieces placed on them in position of their adversaries. With their minds combined, they were taking over the town, bit by bit.

It was the smell of the aforementioned socks that awoken him in the first place. He let his gaze follow up the long line of Ed’s bent legs, over his hips and torso, to the arms that clinged to his own knees. The taller man, dressed in his ridiculous green suit, sans the coat, snored lightly, his head buried in Oswald’s ankles. He swatted at the other’s feet pushing them off the sofa. 

Ed lost his balance but managed to catch himself before he fell flat on the floor. Oswald tightened the blanket around himself as he drew up his knees. At least the bastard didn’t try to rob him of it.

“Why'd you do tha’ for?” Ed mumbled as he rubbed his face. 

“Because your smelly feet were in my face,” Oswald spat back. 

“Well, I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to change my socks regularly the next time Gotham gets turned into a war zone and the government gives up hope on it.” He was sitting on the floor, now. Elbows resting on the edge of the seat. He could barely keep his eyes open. “It’s not like your smell of roses…” he added quietly.

“I didn’t shove mine into your face! You’re the one who decided to put it there.”

“Oh! Would you rather I put my face near yours?”

“Thanks but, no thanks. I wouldn’t want your stinky breath near me either!” As Ed looked at him with a shocked face, mouth agape, Oswald turned to his other side, burying his face into the material of the sofa.

“How  _ dare _ you?!” He swat Oswald on the head with one of the throw pillows from the floor. 

“Ow!”

“I’ll have you know that I take my mouth hygiene  _ very _ seriously. Unlike certain  _ someone _ who only improved his habits when he needed approval from the masses.”

“Oh, you mean the certain someone who paid for  _ your _ teeth to be straightened out?” Oswald threw the pillow back at him as he set up. “My teeth may have been yellow, but they were  _ straight in line _ from the start. And I still have them  _ all _ !”

Ed was on him in an instant, looming dangerously over his smaller frame, face mere inches away. “Remind me, who was it again I had my molars and gums drilled through for?” The last part was growled out. Oswald could scent the mint from the toothpaste along with something that was without a doubt just Ed. His nostrils flared, trying to inhale more of it. 

“For someone who left everything he worked for for years, to save your life at that dock.” He swallowed thickly. He closed his eyes in defeat. “For someone who found your dead, cold body, drenched in blood - caused by your stupidity might I add - pleaded, bargained and killed to have you back.” 

Heavy silence filled the room. 

A drop of something hit Oswald’s bottom lip. On instinct, his tongue darted out, tasting salt. He opened his eyes to look back into Edward’s tears filled pair. A sob broke out of the other’s mouth, contorting it in pain. Tears streamed down his face freely; his back shaking. 

“Ed…” Oswald patted his hair before drawing him into a hug. Ed clinged to him, gripping tightly to his clothes. “Shhhh. Come here.” 

“I’m. Sorry.” He managed to croak out between sobs and sniffles. He climbed into the makeshift bed, holding on tightly. Oswald rubbed circles into his back. Wrapped him up in the blanket and held him tight, as the damn finally broke and all Ed could do was wipe at the tears and snot on his face.

“I’m truly sorry.” He repeated, voice small, when he calmed down. 

“It’s alright,” Oswald comforted him. 

“No. It isn’t. You trusted me. Over and over again. All the while I betrayed you, chasing after… One stupid thing or the other.” 

“It’s not all your fault. I know I can be… at times…” He plucked at the loose thread of he blanket.

“I turned you back. After Arkham. When Strange messed up your mind, I kicked you out… and that was just the beginning.” He looked up at Oswald. “Why?”

“Well…” Oswald tried to answer him. “I guess you thought…”

“Why do you keep forgiving me?” Ed interrupted, looking completely miserable. “I left you for Isabella. I almost killed you for her as well. I dug up your father’s remains. I… I left you in that vault with a freaking fire blazing behind you…”

“I had Butch,” he replied with a weak smile.

“No, it’s…” Ed dug the heel of his palm into his eye. His other hand still held tightly to Oswald. “Why do you do that?” His words almost came out a whisper.

Oswald let the silence overtake them again. What was he supposed to say? That he still loved him? That even as he held him in his arms, broken almost beyond repair, his twisted heart beat faster and his sick mind conjured images of happily ever after? He opened up his heart once. It didn’t go well. 

“You know why.” He replied after a while. Seeing Ed visibly swallow, made him regret giving the answer. He had nowhere to run, stuck between the back of the sofa and Edward’s body.

“Say it.” Edward pleaded. Oswald averted his eyes, the mended cut in his heart opening up. Emotions threatening to pour out and drown him from within. “Please.” Ed cupped his face, guiding him to lock eyes again. “I need to hear it.”

Another explosion shook the building, bringing reality with it. Any moment now, they could both end up dead.

“I love you, Edward Nygma.” Unable to hold his gaze, he closed his eyes. The other let out a shaky breath.

“I didn’t believe you the first time you said it. Not the next couple of times either.” Ed traced his fingers over Oswald’s brow. “What you’ve done lately… It convinced me.” He trembled as he spoke. “You’re the one, Oswald. You’re the only one that sees me for who I am. The only one who loves me for who I am.” 

“Don’t, Ed.” Oswald caught him by the wrist as a tear slipped down his cheek. “I can’t be your consolation prize.”

“You’re not.” Ed kissed him on the cheek, wiping the wetness with his lips. 

“I want you.” He said, placing a chaste kiss on Oswald’s lips.

“I want  _ you _ .” He repeated, kissing Oswald again; pouring passion into it. They opened up for each other, letting their breaths mingle around their tongues. Until unwillingly, they broke for air.

“And if I have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you, Oswald, so be it.” He sealed his promise with another kiss. Or maybe ten. Oswald stopped counting as the dawn broke over the ruins of his beloved Gotham. He would rebuild it. Piece by piece. Just like his broken heart started to mend under his love’s touch.


End file.
